Unlikely Hero
by Wicked R
Summary: Same woods, different town. Whenever the high constable orders Ichabod to investigate any mysteries, he'd never leave without his side kick, Mrs. Crane. Katrina.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Unlikely Hero

Author: WickedRum

Disclaimer: Whoever has the right for these characters, they can have them. I'm simply having fun a little.

Summary/Pairing: Same woods, different town. Whenever the high constable orders Ichabod to investigate any mysteries, he'd never leave without his side kick, Mrs. Crane. Katrina.

Why write this? No particular reason, I always wanted to have a play around with Ichabod, this is the time!

Set: some time after the end of the movie.

Genre: romance/supernatural.

Rating: probably NC17, just to be on the safe side, as there's a little angst and a little smut.

"You need to wake up," Katrina said softly touching Ichabod's jawline with the back of her hand lightly, not to startle him.

Ichabod blinked a few times, his mouth opening to a sigh before his eyes peered open completely. The sight before him was so beautiful. Katrina was so lovely it made tears appear in his eyes sometimes. Right now, too, as she was caressing his face with her smiling eyes. For a long moment it seemed as if the lock of those gazes couldn't be broken and everything was at a timeless idyllic harmony till...a bump on the dirt road the carriage was carrying them on. Ichabod gave out a small whine before leaning back and closing his eyes again.

"You all right?" Katrina fussed. She was well aware of Ichabod's physical weaknesses, his faint heart, his inability to complete a long journey without travel sickness, even on horseback, his anxious nature. She was well used to them constant happenings too, yet she could never stop being concerned about him. What if one of these times that irregularly beating heart of his she listened to so many times worriedly after he'd passed out will not be able to serve him any longer? The witch in her could protect him from most outside forces, but not from what resided inside him. When he nodded and the red has come back to his cheeks a little she had to remind herself once more how strong he really was, overcoming all these daily obstacles, inventing his scientific methods and succeeding with his investigations where everyone else failed. "We're almost there!" She tried to forget about her troubles and looked out the window excitedly. They were pretty close to where she grew up after all, the White Plains was one of the towns close to Sleepy Hollow she'd visited as a child and at that point it seemed like she'd seen the world going a whole day's distance so that they couldn't return home to the Van Tessel house, but had to spend the night at a lodge.

Ichabod followed her gaze and found he could not share her enthusiasm for the place. Dense fog hovered over the swamplands and he wondered why anybody would like to live in such place with wetness constantly seeping into their bones. He stared into the distance and before long he convinced himself the whiteness formed a horizontal whirlwind over the lake and was trying to pull him in. For a moment he felt it might have been a portal to a different world and the thought process stopped right there. Even with his experience in Sleepy Hollow, he tried to clear his mind of the supernatural. It confused him and he lost his bearings. It was only with Katrina he could face such things, but not everything needed faced. For the time being, he pulled back from the window and gulped, ignoring his special senses his mother left him with. He pulled Katrina back too and mostly to override what he called illogical thoughts he covered her lips with a kiss, his a little shaking still. A short fleeting moment in her close proximity and he felt relaxed again. He smiled against her lips relieved and sought to calm himself further by enclosing her in his arms. Without giving it much thought, she instinctively found ways to soothe his mystified soul and his reality always ended up narrowing down to her and her only in the end. Like now, she nuzzled close to him, her nose caressing his, her tongue tracing his lips.

Feeling her warmth, the same filled him from the inside out and those fantastic twitching sensations occurred in his lower regions that used to make him so lightheaded when he was just a novice in that department. Far from that now, his left hand slipped under her dress and began its travel on its own up her leg. His pace was tentative, young Masbeth, who they were normally treating more like an adopted son then a servant, was sitting outside and right above them with the driver of the coach after all. But he couldn't help it, his arousal was evident from his eyes. His task was patent too, he had to convince Katrina to give into temptation as she was the one more reserved about intimate relations in potentially public places. He teased her, moving his fingers up and down her thighs, rubbing them in circles, then when he didn't experience any resistance he took the next leap forwards and between her legs.

Her reaction was immediate, she closed her eyes and leaned onto him a little more, thereby lifting herself off the seat a little to ease his entrance.

Now allowed to give in to his desire, with his other hand he pulled at the strings holding the upper part of her dress tight so that it was possible for his mouth to move down from her bare shoulders to her breasts. Never intending to stop there, he teased her ever more, his fingers moving in and out of her till he felt her melt in his arms. Now she was ready, weak from the passion. He let her slide backwards onto the wall of the carriage, pushed her dress up and pulled her legs apart. His eyes sparkled darkly when he undid his trousers and moved himself into position kneeling down in front of the seat, wanting to taste her.

Neither of them noticed at first that the coach came to a sudden halt when they've reached their destination.

tbc


	2. Parcel Of Land

Chapter 2: Parcel Of Land

Katrina and Ichabod followed their to be host, Dr. Alpin through his yard, nothing different than the sun dappled woods themselves. The house itself was sizable for a country practitioner living on his own and covered with leaves as if part of the forest as well.

Having offered his guests some warm cup of liquid after having wondered why they weren't appropriately dressed for the cold mist, the middle aged doctor started rather unsure of what to expect, "well, to be honest I'm surprised the high constable took my letters seriously and sent somebody to investigate as there is no proof murder happened at all."

"Oh, I'll be back before he needs me," Ichabod frowned. His superior couldn't be less happy he kept going back to New York with good results and Ichabod has started to like the game of disappointing the High Constable. "Now, how can I help you, sir?"

"You see, the population of White Plains used to be over a hundred, just a year ago and as things stand, you can't even call this place a town at present. We barely have seventy people here if you count neighboring farm houses that is."

"Over thirty people you claim to have been killed?"

"No. Eighteen is the exact number. The rest of them moved away in fear from the outbreak of a mysterious disease that has no symptoms, but kills, an unknown poison or some preternatural if I may..."

"Let's go one theory at a time," Ichabod suggested, "what raises your suspicion about the deaths and where does it lead to? Do you think anybody has a motive?"

"A motive? For taking out an entire town? With the first few cases, I thought it was pure coincidence. We have all heard of people collapsing dead, with no previous illness or explanation at all. Some have faint hearts, some remain paralyzed if they survive. But eighteen such occurrings within a year? What fazes me most is that all the victims led a very happy life for a while before, some I myself diagnosed with amnesia, as they seemed to have forgotten of their previous troubles and had changed personalities. And that was the only symptom I could come up with, this whole thing fits no description of any disease or poison, yet it's all very queer."

"There are surgical ways of telling how they died...by the contents of the stomach, substances in the lungs or anywhere else that don't belong there. Has it been done?"

"You don't suppose I'd mutilate and desacrate a corpse like a twisted pervert?"

"You seem like a reasonable man, Dr. Alpin," Ichabod stood, "how else do you suggest I aid you? But you don't have to take part. I only need to know where the grave of the last victim is, my servant will help me."

"The child?" Dr. Alpin raised his eyebrows.

"It won't be the first time young Johnathan'll uncover corpses."

"Look for Alsandair Calbhach on the tombstone," he said reluctantly, "you'll have to go to the far end of the cemetery and walk a fair distance to the newest graves, the town was not ready to deal with such demand for places." He said the last few words more to Katrina, the only other person left present. He rolled his eyes, at least the constable doesn't expect women to assist him. "Do you regularly travel with your husband on his missions?"

"Yes. The High Constable tends to send him to potentially unsolvable cases and if I don't go with him, I might not even see him much."

"Unsolvable cases, huh? Is he that good then?"

"He hasn't failed so far. But tell me a little more about this mystery. The preternatural being you mentioned?"

Dr. Alpin opened his eyes wide, "you're not as analytical as your husband, are you? That good example of opposites attracting."

Katrina nodded, "can you tell me what what people think it is, why is it they're moving away?"

"A fable, nothing more. Irish, for the people around here are. As your good man noted, I'm a reasonable man, I don't believe in ghost stories. I don't know much about it either as a consequence, only that it's a force of darkness came back to taunt souls to hell. Called Cruach I believe. Hey, where are you running? You might catch a cold without a coat around here!"

tbc


	3. Solid Figure

Chapter 3: Solid Figure

After digging up the corpse, Ichabod did send young John Masbath away. It was one thing touching a dead man, a whole different cutting it open. Thank God he started with the exposing of the trunk as usual, cause he didn't have to go any further. The cause of death was blatantly obvious. Decomposition didn't reach the stage where organs would be bursting by themselves, yet the heart was as if cut in two. Clean cut, one might add and noone would live any longer with a heart cut in half. The discovery however, was rather curious, as they were no external injuries. Could he have been bumping into the area of supernatural for a second time? The world of those gone and the living entwined though, he will have to look for clues elsewhere. Deep in thought, he pushed the cadaver down into the hole and started shoveling. Then he remembered, in those Chinese science books he read about procedural studies used to solve seemingly unsolvable crimes they usually mentioned reconstitution of the body. The cutting bit wasn't that bad, but the sewing back together would've taken a lot longer and it was meticulous work. He knew it wasn't right to leave the body in such state, but he had tried reconstitution a few times and lost consciousness on all occasions. He glanced over to check how obviously were the chest flaps open and for the first time he noticed what he was trying to avoid all along. To his luck, the normally cool and damp soil has encouraged the formation of adipocere and therefore slowed down decomposition to the extent his operation was successful in determining what he was after, but didn't do any favors for the appearance of the remains. The blistered skin, the swollen face, the characteristic odor, the flies reaching their destination the moment the prey was exposed. And what's that on his trousers? One of the nails of the corpse fallen off! He looked at it shocked for a moment before his eyes closed and he promptly fainted and collapsed backwards onto the little hill of the adjacent grave.

The familiar whirlwind started in his dream, thunder boomed, wind and pounding rain blasted open a window.

"You don't have to be afraid ever if you'd just remember what I thought you," he could hear his mother's voice.

"You can have what you dream of," the voice slowly changed during the sentence to a man's voice and Ichabod saw some being stepping out from behind the trees, the face silver as if bathing in sunshine when none reached from under the canopy, the rest of his body gray and seemingly rigid as if made of stone. Yet he moved and offered him a hand. In the dream, he took it for some reason to stand face to face with the vision.

"Ichabod Crane is it? Doomed to have the composure of a little girl since that fateful day he'd put his hands into the spiked chair they made his mother confess on. And since than you're ashamed of yourself, shamed about your heritage, your father, your mother, embarrassed for being weak, ashamed of yourself you're drawing attention to yourself when fainting, when all you'd like to do is hide? You feel you can never be how people'd like you? Today you might. I'm Cruach, I'm a God and I can give you what you want. Freedom from any illness, fears and trepidation. You don't even have to say a thing. All you have to do is wish. I can't sense that feeling inside you right now. You shall take the drink of everlasting forgetfulness so you don't tell anyone about our agreement. I ask for nothing in return, just that you serve me in the afterlife when the time comes," he held out his hand for a golden cup to appear in it and reached out to pour the contents into the even in his dreams incapable man...

Once she found the cemetery, Katrina ran the whole way, speeding up even more when she caught sight of the disturbed grave. Yes, Ichabod's passed out at least once a fortnight and the graveyard would just be the place for it, but dread still filled her from what she'd heard from the doctor of the place. Anybody who was passed out practically in the forest with a disquieted mind was at risk if any of the legend she'd once heard as a child about Cruach was true. Not to mention the strange deaths that occurred around here had already hit too close to home with her. People falling dead without much ado, it reminded her of her greatest fear, that Ichabod's heart will one day give up to an extent that he won't just faint as a result. She clambered over her unconscious husband and contrary to her normally waiting out till he came to by himself she shook him. When that didn't work she looked for a vial she kept in the folds of her dress just for such occasion and poured it into his mouth without thinking.

Ichabod groaned at the disturbing tasting intake in the appropriate manner expected. The potion was meant to shock his senses into working again with the taste. His eyes tore open and he spit out any of the liquid that remained in his mouth, looking at Katrina confused.

Her eyes reflected a similar haze, but out of apprehension and doubtfulness.

Tbc


	4. Insert Memory

Chapter 4: Insert Memory

As usual, although just wakening, Ichabod was immediately bright and aware, ready to face any enemies that might've come his, or Katrina's way. "Anything happened?" He stood and helped her up, then without much more fuss he started shoveling again.

"You tell me," Katrina looked at him suspiciously. He seemed to have composed himself pretty quickly. Too quickly in fact. "What is it you'd like most in life?"

"Not exactly the best time, Katrina," he scolded her. He didn't like getting distracted from his criminal work. Not to mention he was burying somebody, so talking about love wasn't exactly fitting. But then again, it would take his mind off it, "but what do you think? Same as the one I love most in the world," he said softly, giving her a small smile. He could be such a romantic sometimes.

"Sure?" She put her hands on her hips and looked seriously at him.

The shovel stopped in his hand, she needed reassurance for some reason. "Katrina, you're the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. You're caring, bright, endearing. Of course I love you most," he smiled again, soft and sweet, "why'd you ask such thing right now?" He let go of the shovel, feeling she was looking so desperate, her expression the same as before her father was killed. Not finding the right words to ease her anxiety, he instinctively closed the distance between them instead and pulled her into an eager, needy embrace. It briefly crossed his mind that the cemetery wasn't the right place for this, but then he decided to bring a hand up to her face to tilt her head back the right way for meeting her lips in a soft kiss, while his other hand held her close. Her response was hesitant and she only closed her lips round his lower one for a moment, but that was enough encouragement for Ichabod to deepen the kiss. He coaxed her mouth open by teasing her lips with his tongue and advanced, pushing her onto a tall tombstone behind them. 

When she felt his marked, but delicate palm stroke the back of her neck she closed her eyes, disregarding the outside world for a moment. It was maybe dangerous not to pay attention around them, but she couldn't help but find herself at his mercy, just like always.

When their lips finally parted, his continued to savor her, up her nose, eyelids, brow, cheek, eventually saying good bye to the soft touch of her skin with blowing a little kiss to her lips once again. He didn't let go of her however, he placed his chin on top of her head, enjoying the islet of harmony amidst the grave world. He hoped it meant to same to her and whatever was on her mind was put at ease.

She too, brought a hands around his neck and the other was playing with his hair when she looked up into his eyes searchingly for a moment. The open display of love in there put her completely at ease. Why did she think anything was wrong at all before? "Oh, nothing Ichabod, but I do need to talk to you." Her expression turned from soft to solemn again as she knew he'd prefer to blank out the subject, even if he'd learned to take it seriously. "About Cruach."

"Lean chap in silvery armor who calls himself a god claiming to know how to grant wishes?"

"How do you know him?" Katrina freaked out again.

"A dream right before you came," he gestured as if of no importance. That was were the supernatural usually found its way to him and he tended to ignore it.

"Oh, not a dream, Ichabod, not a dream! You remember Brom, his mother was of Irish decent. When we were children his mother used to tell us stories from her grandmother's mythology. Cruach can come to you when you're asleep in the woods and make you a bid that's hard to refuse and he'll take your soul and life whenever he feels like it for it, unless you offer your firstborn child in your place. He can only be fought with the Caladbolg and watch it if you didn't take on the offer cause if he feels to be found out he'll come and get you in person..."

"Katrina..." Ichabod stated with dread, looking past her, "I think you should run, in a general not behind you direction and maybe you should tell me what the Caladbolg is, like about now!"

But it was too late, Cruach was near and shoved her out the way with a powerful blow that sent her flying into another tombstone. She wasn't his target right now, but he'd deal with her later.

"Magic sword, incantation in the book I gave you," Katrina managed to explain whispering to Ichabod running to her side before passing out from the pain at the side of her head.

Tbc


	5. Tilt

Chapter 5: Tilt

"You have incontrovertibly given in to temptation, all that was to do is drinking for everlasting forgetfulness. You can do that now and continue your life unawares, or you can die right now. Which one you choose?"

Ichabod however, didn't pay much attention to the deity, he was feverishly looking through his book he always kept at his chest, even with the whole in the middle of it. "I call to you that will move mountains..."

Cruach laughed, "do you think you can cast a spell? You need to be a warlock for that, with your ancestry of witches dating back to at least my time."

The constable had to try nevertheless and continued with the incantation, "return to us the Caladbolg with lightning."

It'd be hard to say which one of them was more surprised when bolts of energy sizzled together and formed a sword in Ichabod's hand, making the book burn out to ashes onto the ground. Has his mother left him such influential heritage? Yet there was no time to contemplate, the sword was heavy and Ichabod had to put both his hands on the hilt just to be able to hold it.

Having gotten over his initial amazement, Cruach laughed again at the lawman's clumsiness, not concerned. It was obvious the newly found warlock had no idea how to handle himself in the situation. For one, he needed a book to read out spells and that was burned now. Cruach held out his hand for his own magic sword to arrive in his grip, the one he used to cut people's hearts through without making them bleed on the outside. It wouldn't work that easy with Ichabod Crane as long as the Caladbolg covered his chest, but at the moment the young warlock could not even keep it steady as high as his chest. One or two slashes at him and he'll be finished. It took him three steps to corner a grave and be in striking range and since Ichabod was as far from protecting his head as this new world was from his once ancient Ireland that regularly presented him with human sacrifices, Cruach aimed at that.

For Ichabod, it was all happening too fast. He was staring at the double edged, curved and large object in his hand incredulously. The weight pulling him forward almost made him drop the sword, which worked as side stepping Cruach's blow exactly at the right time. Finally it dawned on him that he should use the magical gift in a more appropriate manner and swung it in the general direction of the deity up in the air as far as he could lift it.

Cruach didn't have to dodge out the way, Ichabod's aim was way off and the lightning that emanated from the tip of his blade reached the tower of the town's church building in the distance and the whole thing came tumbling down.

The immortal seemed amused, "you just chopped the top of the church off. Careful now, haven't you heart you can cut up mountains with that one?" He found Ichabod's efforts too funny to take his own attack seriously and made a wide arc with his weapon, his aim not exact perfect either from laughing.

Ichabod consciously pulled out the way this time, dragging the sword with him, but the quick motion with the heavy object landed him on his back side, with his legs apart and the sword in between them on the ground, even though he was still hanging on to it.

Now with the Caladbolg out the way, Cruach only needed one simple horizontal motion of his blade in front of the constable's chest to finish him off, but to his surprise Ichabod got himself together enough to raise the magic sword back up to his defense, even with the hilt still on the ground. The lightning resulting in the flash movement of the Caladbolg went up into the sky this time, like a reverse bolt of thunder.

Cruach's sword slid along the other blade and sliced deep into Ichabod's arm instead. "Perchance you should take a few fencing lessons?" He offered helpfully.

Ichabod traced where the sharp pain he felt originated from. His coat was ruined, practically sleeveless, and blood was bubbling out the wound. He felt his arm and chest getting wet and soaking. Blood. His own blood everywhere. For a moment he did register that Katrina's protection spell will save him from bleeding out, but lifting that sword again with that uncomfortably slippery palm of his...He didn't usually get much notice of when he was going to pass out. He fell backwards like a ton of bricks, the rest of his body rigidly in the same position, both hands clutched on the sword. Chain reaction followed. The momentum of him falling back brought his fists up balled around the steel in a blink of an eye. The motion caused the usual lightning, which cut through the air before him as if slashing it in two halves.

Unfortunately for Cruach, he was still standing right there too.

Tbc


	6. Ride On

Chapter 6: Magic

"Right where you left it Ichabod," Katrina encouraged her husband who had buried himself under her dress and was covering her thighs with tickly kisses, aided by the rocking motion of the carriage taking them back to New York. They had a few days ahead to spend somehow on the way, but Ichabod was eager to get a start on the entertainment, since they were so abruptly interrupted by Dr. Alpin on arrival.

Katrina smiled in anticipation and moved her hands under Ichabod's shirt at his collarbones to edge the clothing item off, then traced his arms down, sighing a little relieved when seeing the still red cut Cruach's sword had made. Barely a day had passed and it had closed, causing him no discomfort. By now she knew it couldn't have been just her spell's effect, every time Ichabod was around magic it seemed to have intensified around him. That he could conjure up the Caladbolg was no surprise for her, she'd always suspected Ichabod would in fact be a natural with witchcraft if he just stopped denying its whole existence. However, that was a problem for another day, right now she was unable of any more coherent thinking. The moment she mentioned magic, he'd smothered her with kisses. It did work this time, but it won't always do as a distraction! She giggled, then suddenly her eyes lost focus over a few blinks. She moaned and brought a leg up on Ichabod's shoulder to allow his mouth a better entrance in between her legs.

He enclosed his mouth around the little sensitive hill at the top of her pussy and followed the licking up with sucking. While Katrina was lost in the feeling, he was so far purposefully working on her pleasure and when she cried out at the sensation sending shivers through her body he had to reach out and put a hand over her mouth so that their travel companions would not hear them.

She stared at him in shock for a moment, not comprehending why he had stopped and why that startled look was on his face. His expression then turned into an amused smile, she'd always been his release of tension.

Katrina loved color in his cheeks, warmed up by their love making. She inched down to check on her favorite body part of his and found it more than satisfactory for immediate action, but she still couldn't resist giving it a few hard and tight strokes while she pulled him close to whisper into his ear, "that's all well, but the real deal's better." She could only slur in anticipation and squirmed against him. Nothing compared to when the tip of his cock was teasing her instead...

The End.


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